Azula burrowed further into the shadow coverage. It seemed like an odd thing to do—to hide from the darkness using darkness as a cover. But she had no choice. She couldn't let him catch her. If he caught her than everything would be lost. She dared not move. She had worked hard to lose him and she had finally done it. Things have been silent but she could sense that it wouldn't last much longer. But she had nothing to protect herself with, nothing at all. Not even a blanket to toss over her head like a child—she wasn't even lucky enough to have a false sense of protection. She slinks even further back, until she can go no further. Boxes, old furniture, and discarded wood jabs uncomfortably into her spine. She is about to reposition herself when a familiar sound assaults her ears. She goes completely rigid, her stomach knotting with fear beyond all comprehension.

It is distant at first, but she could very clearly hear it now. A haunting sound like death itself.

Oh yes, she can hear them howling, that shrill macabre wail.

She could smell the rot.

He is near.

Zuko pulled himself out of bed. He was already having a bad day and he had just opened his eyes. He has been agitated for most of the month and couldn't seem to alleviate the feeling no matter what he tried. But who could blame him, considering the circumstances. He fixed himself a cup of steaming tea and watched the turtle ducks swim across the pond. The pond has always been a source of comfort for him, a shining beacon of light and purity when all else was dismal and tainted. A striking sunrise made it that much better. But even the scenic sight couldn't ease his troubled mind this time. He finished his tea and went off to meet Mai—the pair had a thrilling council meeting ahead of them and he couldn't have been more excited. He laughed sarcastically to himself, he was excited all right, just about as joyful as Mai was on a normal day. He frowned to himself, wishing that he'd taken chamomile tea instead of peppermint—he'd heard from Iroh that chamomile helps with both stress and migraines. And boy was his head killing him. Then again, he mused, stress is the source of this headache.

Now with in feet of the meeting room he could hear the sound of one droning monotone voice, already well into some order of business… or off on some tangent that was no more necessary to the meeting than colors were to a blind man. With a drawn out, self-prepping sigh, Zuko pulled one of the double doors open.

"…that's what I suggest any how, in light of mistakes recently made…" The councilman paused. "Ah yes, how good of you to grace us with your company at last, Firelord. I was beginning to think Firelady, Mai is in charge of the nation now."

Zuko waved the bating quip off. "It's a pleasure to be here." He forced out before taking his seat at the end of the table.

"Shall I fill you in?"

For some reason the question flared his annoyance. Perhaps it was the condescending tone. Or maybe it was the way the man stared—as if Zuko were a child who needed a good swat to the rear. He pinched his brow and replied, "no, Quzon, don't fill me in, I'll just rewind time so I can hear your speech in real time."

Quzon scoffed at his sarcasm. Next to him, Mai was frowning—mostly because she simply didn't want to hear the rant a second time, but also at Zuko's short fuse.

With the most insincere smile Zuko had seen in a long while (he cringed at the memories that flooded in), Quzon began to summarize. Well, summarize is the wrong word, Zuko though. The man began to recite everything he'd said prior. "The recent battle was a disaster, Firelord Zuko. A tragedy that did not have to happen at all. That is particularly why we are in attendance today."

Inwardly, Zuko let out a groan. The man's needlessly elegant words were driving him berserk.

"The situation could have been avoided." He remarked redundantly. "We fought a battle over a misunderstanding. We need to improve relations between our great nation and the Earth Kingdom. If we cannot manage that then I suspect we will be on war grounds once more. And for what this time? A misplaced cabbage?"

Zuko could practically feel his life force draining from him. A chill ran through him. No…he couldn't feel the life force draining from him. He'd witnessed a fading life force, and this wasn't it.

"Our best bet is to meet with the Earth King himself and…"

Zuko found himself no longer able to focus on all of this dull talk, his mind wandered.

Wandered back to the battle field at the first of the month.

Just as clearly as it was on the day it happened he could tasted the acrid air—smoke of buildings razed and bodies burned. The tang of blood, sweat, and agony. And air of fear and mourning befell a red hazed dawn. The sun beating down on him ferociously, like hell itself rising…maybe it was already risen. He surveyed the death and destruction. It truly had.

But most vividly in his mind's eye he could see a tangle of bodies. A fair sized pile of them thrown atop each other in the haste to make a path for the body carts. Within the pile—not even at the top he caught a glimpse of familiar armor.

Gold. Elegant. Expensive. Armor.

Royal armor.

That was all he could recognize of her. No, there was something else. Her eyes, he knew her eyes. The image was with him forever now; The way her eyes glazed over—and hollow on a corpsely pale face, her cracked lips slightly parted by death's rattle. Most intensely of all, he recalled Azula's bloodied fingers clench. One final post-death twitch.

It haunted him. Left him in a cold sweat.

Through the fog of Quzon's rant he could see those familiar lifeless and cloudy eyes.